Mirror, Mirror
by Woulvorine
Summary: Things get weird when Inuyasha shows Miroku a mirror that allows the viewer to see anything one asks. Beauty and the Beast universe. Reposting this, edited, from my old account Fading Jade.


I was really into Inuyasha when I was in high school. Apparently, one Thursday morning I was watching Beauty and the Beast. It got to the part where the Beast shows Belle the mirror and says, "This mirror will show you anything, anything you wish to see." And evidently, my immediate thought was "Miroku!" So this is what I came up with, at the tender age of 16.

It's pretty awful, but it's always nice to have some fun at someone's expense (even if it's your own), so that's why I'm posting this. Have fun, kiddos.

Mirror, Mirror

Paper was strewn across the dusty floor, furniture broken, scattered like dead soldiers on a battlefield. Miroku shook his head at the mess his master had created in his various fits of rage, his dark hair flicking his cheeks. Inuyasha rolled his eyes, scoffing.

"It ain't _that_ bad."

Miroku shrugged, poking a leather armchair with the stuffing spewing out of its cushion. "Whatever you say, boss."

Inuyasha snorted, and made his way toward the balcony, stepping over a rather large wooden, busted cabinet. Miroku, also tiptoeing around random, smashed objects, followed him to a small, elegant-looking oak table, on which were the only intact things in the room: a glowing rose, hanging in midair in a glass arch, and a silver mirror, lying face down on the table's dusty surface.

Inuyasha stopped behind the table, in front of the large window with torn crimson curtains, and spun on his heel to face the monk. "She misses her father," he said gruffly, staring at the rose, which, pitifully, voided another of its frail petals. His golden eyes watched it glide to the surface of the table.

Miroku's eyebrows rose. "So?"

"So," Inuyasha pointed to the mirror with one clawed finger, "I'm going to let her see him."

"Aaaaaaaaaand…a mirror will make it all better?"

Inuyasha frowned, his eyebrows bending over the bridge of his nose. "Yes."

"Right." Miroku paused, then lifted a solitary finger. "How?"

"Pick it up."

With deft hands, Miroku lifted the mirror gently, and gazed at his reflection. He smirked. "You're right, my friend. One look at this handsome creature, and she'll be good as new." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Inuyasha's palm met his face. "Shut up."

"Hn. So, how will this help again?"

Inuyasha let his hand fall, and he became serious once more. "This mirror will show you anything…anything you wish to see."

"Really?"

"Yes."

A lecherous grin cracked Miroku's face. "_Anything_?"

"Ye—no!"

"You said _anything_!"

"No, I didn't!" Panic splayed across Inuyasha's face.

"You most certainly did!"

"Didn't!"

"Did!"

"Did _not_!"

"I wish to see what Kagome is doing right now!"

Miroku's nose was pressed against the glass of the mirror just as a woman's figure came into view…as he sprinted down the corridor, Inuyasha hot on his heels. "Oh, yeah!"

"Bozo, if you don't hand it over right now, I'm going rip your spinal cord out though your ass and beat you with it!"

"Ooooo, she's taking a bath!"

Inuyasha's eyes widened as he imagined her graceful, delicate hand slide slowly up her bare, pale leg to come to rest on her naked thigh— "AAAARRRGGGHHH!"

Inuyasha tackled Miroku, sending them both crashing into the nearest suit of armor.

"Give it to me!"

"No!"

"Now!"

"Never!"

A cacophony of shouts, curses, and clangs reverberated throughout the palace, making the windows shake and the rest of the staff cast each other startled, apprehensive looks.

Kagome, meanwhile, lounged in the tub, soap and scent surrounding her, and she sank deeper into the water, her muscles loosening pleasantly. She hadn't had a bath in three days, so she was happy to take the opportunity. After all, what _else_ was there to do in this miserable old castle?

Her bubble of contentedness popped as she heard the shrieks and thuds coming from upstairs. She rolled her eyes, flicking some suds off her shoulder.

"Miroku! Sango!" she shouted, shaking her tiny fist at the ceiling. "Keep the noise to a minimum!" She began shampooing her hair, running her fingers through the long dark curls. "God, you'd think that they'd have something better to do other than—"

"Kagome?"

Kagome's head snapped to the door, flinging water and soap everywhere. "Sango? I-I thought that you were upstairs?" She felt a flush creeping up her neck.

Sango looked sheepish, brown hair tied back into her usual low ponytail. "Well, I heard you yelling, so I thought you needed something…" She shifted from one foot to the other, looking uncertain.

"Oh. Right. Sorry." Kagome's face took on a look of puzzlement. "Wait…If that isn't you making all the racket upstairs, then who—"

Her eyes widened, and her jaw dropped as a startling, disturbing image came to mind. She stared at Sango, who, judging by her shocked expression, was thinking the exact same thing.

"Oh. My. God."


End file.
